Hunger Games: Modern Day
by meganrutts
Summary: A modern day tale of The Hunger Games, told in the point of view of Katniss Everdeen.


"The Hunger Games" Modern Day

Told by the POV of Katniss Everdeen

Though it was the last thing we wanted to do, Gale and I got out of the car. Gale, being the gentleman that he was, thanked my mother for the ride to school, and I did the same and added that I loved her. She asked me if I had remembered the brown paper bag that was sitting on the kitchen counter, containing my lunch for the day. Without thinking, I nodded my head yes, but as I thought about it afterwards I wasn't so sure if I had. I was too overcome with nerves to think straight.

All sounds seemed to fade out as I took a look at what stood in front of me; high school. I made the assumption right away that it would be frightening, for I had never even set foot inside one before, nor had Gale. We had been homeschooled ever since we can remember. Both of our mothers never really liked the idea of public school—they never attended one as children themselves, let alone children. They were homeschooled just like us. I guess that's the reason we've been stuck at home with some random middle aged teacher who would basically spend most of his lectures talking about his kids, wife and love for pole-vaulting. I'm ashamed to say that I know more about that idiotic sport than the Pythagoras Theorem.

Anyways, our mothers announced recently that they wanted to enroll us in a public school nearby. Since they were never enrolled as kids, they thought it would be nice of them to let us have all of the high school experiences they never got to have at our age; although, I'm not so sure if it is entirely nice of them after all, considering what I've heard about high school. Apparently grades eight and nine were the easiest of times, but Gale and I are entering halfway through this year, second semester, in the eleventh grade. What am I even going to do when I get in there? I'm not going to know anybody in any class I have, and the chances of Gale being in any classes of mine are slim to none. We'll enter the front doors, go to the office and be given our class schedules, and begin our high school expedition. I can barely contain my excitement; sarcasm candy-coating every single one of those words.

"You nervous?" Gale's voice interrupted my thoughts, and I snapped back into reality.

I looked up at him, and he must have noticed the worry in my eyes because he grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers, giving me a reassuring smile.

"We'll be fine, Catnip, I promise you," he says. "The only thing you're going to have to worry about is keeping all those boys from trying to steal you away from me."

I laugh, squeezing his hand and burying my face into his chest, trying to hide the rosiness that has bloomed across my cheeks from his remark. I completely disagree with him; being homeschooled for so long, I never had to put any effort into my appearance. I mean, of course I would shower, but my hair would not touch a flat iron, curling iron or any heat whatsoever. It would normally either just hang loose or I would put it into one of my signature braids. The braid usually ended up being my first choice—it was something to do with my hands while I listened to my homeschool teacher ramble on about his love for pole-vaulting.

And today, for my first day of high school, it was pulled into a classic braid going down my back. My eyelashes free of any makeup, as well as my eyelids, the skin on my face free of foundation. I never liked having makeup caked onto my face—what if you had an itch on your nose? Or something in your eye? It would just be more of an inconvenience than an attempt to make yourself look pretty.

I also had on a plain white T-shirt, and slim-fitting jeans that were starting to prey in the knees. The sad thing is, it was more effort into an appearance than I had ever tried to put in all my years of being alive, rather than when I was forced to dress fancy for any special family gatherings; and I wasn't about to put on some bright, flowing ball gown and wear it to my first day of eleventh grade.

Pretty wasn't the first thing I thought myself as—but whenever Gale was around, I felt radiant, and he makes it that way. I was so happy to have a boy like him in my life to make every day so great, and to make me feel so much better about … well, me.

I felt his index finger touch my chin, and he lifted my face up to his and pressed his lips against mine, as he always does. I smiled as our lips touched, and he did the same in return as he felt my lips curl up into that grin.

We pulled our faces apart, still hand in hand, and we walked towards the front doors of the school. As we entered, I squeezed his hand tightly, and he did the same. It was time for us to face it, and let our adventure begin.

I was right; I had forgotten my lunch on the kitchen counter. I was actually thoroughly disappointed—I needed some of my mother's cooking to get me through my first class, which unfortunately was math. Gale and I compared schedules, and we found that we both had English together later on that day. Hearing that, I thought that perhaps there would be some positivity to come out of today.

The first bell rang loudly, almost as frightening as a fire alarm, causing me to nearly jump a foot in the air. I clamped my hand over my mouth before I could let out a shriek; I was on edge, and there was no hiding it.

Gale pulled me close, gave me a kiss and told me that everything was going to be okay. Usually when he tells me that, I believe him— but the feeling sitting in the pit of my stomach told me that he wasn't entirely sure himself. I tried forcing myself to believe his words.

With that, he was gone.

I looked down at the schedule in my hand. Room 212 was the location of my first class. 212? They have 212 rooms in this place? It didn't look that big from the outside. Oh god, I'm going to get lost. I could feel my heartbeat starting to beat faster but I tried to keep my cool and ignore it as I walked down the hallway.

201…202…204...What? Where's 203? Why did they skip 203?...205…206…

This was taking way too long. The second bell should be going any second now, and I still haven't found my class.

208…209…210…211…211…211…

Where the hell is Room 212? It should be right next to 211, should it not?

There it was: the ring of the second bell. I'm late.

I sighed, placing my hand on my forehead. I was starting to perspire I was so anxious. I shut my eyes tightly and clenched my teeth. This was starting to feel like a nightmare, and I was starting to think that Gale lied about things being okay.

"Miss… are you lost?" a voice chimed from behind me.

I turned around, my hand still attached to my forehead. I stood there with my mouth half open, but no words came out.

"Miss?" it was a short, chubby man, wearing a plaid shirt that was tucked into his jeans.

"I… Yes, I am… well, I was…" I dropped my hand from my face. I sounded like an idiot.

The man smiled, and looked down at the clipboard he was holding. "Are you our new student?"

"Yeah," I say, my voice shaky.

"Oh, so you're Catnip Evergreen!" the man replied with a smile.

Hearing 'Catnip' made me think of Gale. "Actually, it's… it's Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

The main squinted at the clipboard. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of round glasses and placed them on his round face. "Oh! Yes, Katniss Everdeen. My apologies, I can barely see a thing without my specs. You're lucky I even saw you standing out there!"

Specs. This slang was going to take some getting used to.

"Come in, come in!" he says, waving me to the door.

I was hesitant, but I listened to him and stepped inside the room, my hands clasped together, twiddling with my thumbs. I tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone, but I could feel a classroom full of eyes set directly on me. The dead silence created an awkward atmosphere; I was certain that you'd be able to clearly hear a pin drop in this room.

The man held out his hand to shake mine, and it took me a second before I reached out in return. "My name is Mr. Munro," he says. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

I smiled slightly, but it was forced. "Thanks, you too."

He turned to face the class. "Everyone, this is Katniss. She's new to high school, so please do your best to make her feel welcome."

I slowly turned my head to face the desks of students staring at me. No one said a word. Their gazes seemed to burn through my skin and into my soul. I had never felt so uncomfortable.

Mr. Munro decided to break the discomforting silence. "Okay then, there's a seat in the back corner right next to mister Mellark, if you'd like to make your way back there so we can begin."

I averted my eyes to the left side of the room, back corner. There was a lonely wooden desk sitting back there, just for me. It was almost like it was expecting me. I looked to the desk next to it and in it was a boy with messy blonde hair, who had been referred to as 'mister Mellark', whose blue eyes were fixed on me. I wasn't sure if the look on his face was anger, irritation, or if that's just how it normally looked. I made my way to the back of the room in the still of the continuing silence, feeling his eyes still set on me even as I sat down. Even when Mr. Munro began his lesson, I turned to look at the boy and saw that he was still staring at me. As my eyes fixed on his, he abruptly looked away and opened his notebook. I turned away, opened my notebook, took out my pen and began my class.

It wasn't long before I felt his stare on my skin again.

The rest of my day was interesting. After math, I had a cooking class, in which my teacher

informed me that we'd be making cookies with a partner. I ended up being paired up with 'mister Mellark', who I later learned had the first name Peeta. I found it strange that he was also in my cooking class as well as my math. He didn't say much to me for most of the class—just the occasional one word answers when I attempted to make small-talk. Long story short, it was an awkward hour-and-a-half and our chocolate chip cookies turned out overcooked and burnt. Peeta offered to take them home, assuming I wouldn't want to take home a bag of hockey-puck cookies. I wasn't about to stop him.

After the bell rang for lunch period, I picked up my notebook and put the strap of my bag over my shoulder.

"Hey," Peeta says suddenly.

I look up at him, somewhat surprised he decided to start conversing with me first. "Uh… yeah?"

Peeta gave me a small smile. "See you around."

I just stood there, not sure what to do. I gave a slight smile in return. "Yeah… yeah!" I finally managed to say. "See you."

I turned away from Peeta to make my way out of the room, and was suddenly greeted by Gale's arms wrapping around my shoulders.

"Oh! Gale!" I say, laughing as I was pleasantly surprised.

He kisses my forehead. "How was the first half of your day?"

"Good," I lie. "Things are going good, just like you said."

Gale grinned. "Fantastic." I then saw him peer over my shoulder, and I also turned my head to see what he was looking at.

I didn't realize that Peeta was still standing there; I assumed he would have left after his goodbye to me.

"Who's your friend?" asks Gale, and I notice a strange tone in his voice.

I don't know if I'd call him a friend just yet. "Oh, this is um… Peeta," I say. I motion my hand towards Gale. "Peeta, this is Gale."

Peeta gave a small, barely noticeable smile. "Nice to meet you," he says, but it didn't sound entirely sincere.

"I'm her boyfriend," adds Gale. "Been together for quite a while now."

Peeta seems to force the smile to stay on his lips, and he nods his head gently. "Congratulations."

Gale smirks at him. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

I look up at Gale, an odd expression on my face. It's almost as if he's taunting Peeta.

Peeta nods again. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys, then."

"Count on it," says Gale.

Peeta walks out of the room, glancing at me as he passes by. Both Gale and I look in his direction as he walks away, and I notice that the smile on Peeta's face vanishes as soon as he reaches the door.

"Why'd you do that earlier?" I calmly ask Gale after school that day as we were walking home. The day could not have gone by any slower.

"Do what, babe?" he asks.

"Talk to Peeta like that. You know, when we were in the cooking room." I had been curious about it all day, but wanted to wait until I was alone with Gale to ask him about it.

Gale looks at me weirdly. "Talk to him like what? I just wanted him to get to know me a bit better, you know? Become more familiar with me."

I wasn't convinced. "Okay, now tell me the real reason why you talked to him like that."

Gale laughs. "C'mon Catnip, I'm just letting him know that you're my territory. Not his."

It was my turn to give him a weird look. "What are you talking about?"  
"Like I said before, I'm going to have to worry about all the boys here trying to steal you away from me, so I'm just making sure that doesn't happen."

"I just met Peeta today, Gale," I say. "We barely know each other. I wouldn't even consider him much of a friend just yet."

"Yeah well, he likes you. I can tell," Gale says. "It's my male intuition. I can tell by the way he gave you that stupid little smile before he said 'see you around'." He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "I just don't want to lose my little Catnip."

My hand seemed limp in his. "Gale, do you trust me?" I ask.

"Yeah, sure I do," he says, not so convincingly. "And you trust me, right?"

"Of course." I was telling the truth.

He smiles. "Perfect." He kisses me on the cheek and we continue our walk home. It would have been pleasant, had the feeling in the pit of my stomach not come back.

The next few weeks at school surprisingly became better and better with time. I began talking to people, making friends and excelling in my courses. I managed to not overcook or undercook anything in my cooking class for quite a few classes. Me and Peeta have been becoming closer over the past few weeks as well—I'd now say it's safe to call him my friend. We joke around in math, laugh in cooking class as we try not to catch our next batch of cookies on fire. I'm really quite surprised that he was so quiet with me to begin with, because ever since we became good friends, he has been one of the most outgoing people I've met. I wonder if he has always been like this, seeing as whenever I pass him in the hall he is usually by himself.

I didn't exactly notify Gale of me and Peeta's recent friendship—the two of us have been in a weird place with each other lately. Something didn't feel entirely right with us. He had made a lot of new friends, more so than I have. Some of them are female, and there has been one in particular I've noticed he's been talking to quite a lot lately. She had an odd name—Glimmer, I think it was. She had just moved here a few months before Gale and I enrolled in school. She's pretty; blonde hair, straight teeth that resemble pearls and bright blue eyes. She wears a lot of makeup, but I think she can be one of those girls who would still look stunning even without it. But I surely won't say that to her—I only know her as well as Gale knows Peeta, which is really not very well at all.

"So, how are you and the boyfriend doing?" Peeta asks suddenly, while we are cleaning up our cooking station.

I look up at him, slightly caught off guard. He never really asked any personal questions. "Gale?"

Peeta laughs. "No, your other boyfriend."

I roll my eyes. "Very funny."

Peeta smiles. "I haven't seen you guys with each other a whole lot lately. Everything okay?"

Thinking of the odd tension between Gale and I gives me a weird feeling in my chest. "Yeah, he's just… you know, busy with school… and friends…"

"And Glimmer."

For some reason, the sound of her name aggravates me. I look up at Peeta. "Sorry, who?"

"Oh, come on. I know you know who she is."

I turn away from him and continue to clean our cookie tray. "So, what?"

"So, I'm just saying it's a bit odd how much time they've been spending together," he replies.

"They haven't been spending _that _much time together. He's been busy with homework lately, he told me he doesn't have a lot of spare time right now." I could feel the defense raising in the tone of my voice.

"He had some spare time yesterday," says Peeta.

"For your information," I say, putting down the clean cookie pan, "he was doing his half of our English project yesterday after school. He told me himself, because I asked him if he wanted to go see a movie."

Peeta looks at me with a blank face. "You sure?"

"Why would Gale lie to me?" I ask, annoyed.

"Well, I don't know, but he was with Glimmer at the diner yesterday," says Peeta, returning to cleaning our messy cooking table.

What?

The feeling in my chest suddenly became much more intense. All I do is look at Peeta.

Wiping down our table, he suddenly looks up at me and notices I'm staring. "What?"

"How would you possibly know that?" I ask.

"I work there," replies Peeta. "My mom owns the place."

I shook my head. "You're lying. Gale would never lie to me. Not in a million years."

"Katniss, why would I be making this up?" Peeta now sounded annoyed with me. "I'm just trying to help you out."

"Help me out?" I repeat. "How is this helping me out in any way?"

"Because I'm trying to show you what kind of a guy your ass of a boyfriend really is!"

Peeta's raised voice and harsh tone caught me off guard, as well as most of the class. Heads turned and conversations others were having stopped dead in their tracks.

I could feel my face become hot with the redness spreading across it, and seconds later when the bell for next period went I grabbed my things and ran out of the classroom, tears filling my eyes to the brims while I tried ignoring Peeta calling my name to come back.

I didn't bother going to next period. I knew that I would receive a phone call home from the office, but I didn't care. It was last period before the end of the day, and I had math class with Peeta. After his episode in cooking class, I'd rather not see him again. Not for a while.

I sat outside on a hill of grass overlooking our all-weather field, wiping the occasional tear away from my face. I didn't want to believe anything that Peeta told me about Gale, but I had to admit to myself that one part of me wondered if it was true.

"Catnip!" a familiar voice rang from behind me.

I turned my head to see Gale, dressed in his gym clothes and runners, jogging toward me, smiling.

I could feel that my eyes were slightly bloodshot from tears, and a part of me wanted him to come over and ask me what's wrong, but another part of me wanted all of this to be put at rest.

He sat next to me in the grass. "Catnip?"

I looked at him, forcing a smile. "Hey."

"Feels like forever since I've seen you," he says.

"I know," I reply, quietly. My voice didn't sound normal.

He leaned in closer to my face. "Hey," he says, "what's the matter, babe?"

"Nothing," I lie. "Want to go catch a movie tonight?"

Gale's expression changes suddenly. "You know, tonight's actually no good for me."

I can feel the tears coming back. "Why's that?"

"Well, you know, I've been swamped with that English project of ours, and—"

"I finished my half of it in two days," I cut him off. "You've been working on it all week."

Gale shrugged. "You know I'm not the best worker. I take my time."

Without thinking, I blurt, "Where were you last night?"

Gale looks at me, confused. "What?"

"Last night," I say. "Where were you?"

Gale hesitates to answer. "I was… I was at home," he manages to say. "Doing the… the thing. Our project. I was doing our project."

This isn't happening right now. I am not being lied to.

"Promise?" I say.

Gale just looks at me. "Katniss—"

"_You asshole!_" I shout, breaking down into tears. "He was right!"

"What? Who was right?" asks Gale.

"Peeta. He saw you with Glimmer last night at the diner," I reply, a sniffling mess.

"Peeta? Was that creep spying on me or something?" Gale sounded angry.

"He's not a creep, he's a good friend!" I snap at him. I wipe the flowing tears from my face, but with every second that passes they are replaced with new ones. "Tell me what happened."

Gale looks at me blankly.

"I said tell me what happened!" I couldn't believe this.

"I took her out for dinner because she's fairly new in town and I wanted to show her around," he says.

"And then what?" I ask.

Silence from Gale.

"Gale, answer me right n—"

"Look, _she _kissed _me, _okay?" Gale yells at me.

My mouth drops.

Gale covers his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, Katniss."

"And you kissed her back, didn't you?" I say.

"Catnip, I said I'm sorry—"

"Don't call me that," I snap. "Don't ever call me that again."

He uncovers his face with his hands and looks at me. "I'm sorry, I—"

I get up off the grass and dust the grass from my jeans. "Nice job at keeping your Catnip." And with that, I left him sitting alone on the grassy hill.

My face was puffy and red, eyes swollen and bloodshot from the rivers of tears pouring from them. I was at on the other side of the school, at the very back; the place nobody ever went. The perfect place for me to go at a time like this. The final bell of the day had rung about twenty minutes ago and everyone was well on their way home, happy to be done with learning for the day. I was jealous of them; I at least wanted to be happy about something.

Gale cheated on me. I trusted him with every last bit of me, and he cheats on me. It's amazing how wrong you can be about someone. Just like I was wrong about Gale, I was wrong about Peeta.

"Katniss?"

Speak of the devil.

I didn't respond; not because I didn't want to, but because I'm sure that if I tried to speak all that would come out would be an odd squeaking noise.

Peeta sat down next to me. "Katniss."

I looked up at him, my ugly, puffed up face and all. When he saw me like this, he almost looked hurt by it. Immediately, he pulled me into a tight embrace, and I began to sob as I wrapped my arms around him in return.

He held me tightly. "You know, he doesn't deserve someone like you."

I sniffed. "Someone like me?"

He pulled away so I could face him. "Yes, someone like you. Someone so caring, so funny, so genuine," he says, wiping away one of my tears with his thumb. "Someone so simply amazing."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Peeta, we've known each other for a month at most," I say. "I'm sure that if you got to know me more, you'd find out that I'm not all that great."

Peeta shook his head. "You're crazy. You can only get better."

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, as I tried my best to pull myself together. When the swelling of my eyes went down, and my eyes went from being bloodshot red to a soft pink, Peeta spoke up once again.

"Come to the formal dance with me."

I looked at him in confusion. "What? What dance?"

"You must not have heard the announcements on the intercom from out here," he replies. "There's a dance this Friday for the eleventh and twelfth grade students."

I turned away from him. A formal dance? My mother had always talked about how they held those at public schools. Maybe this is one of the experiences she wants me to have while I'm here. "Why do you want to go with me? You have so many other options."

Peeta laughs. "I want to go with you because none of these other girls are as cool as you."

I cracked the first smile in what felt like forever. "You think I'm _cool?_"

He smiled back. "Guilty as charged."

I laugh at him. "Okay."

"Okay, what?" he asks, confused.

"Okay, I'll go to the dance with you," I say.

Peeta's face lights up even more than it did before. "Really?"

I roll my eyes. "No, I'm just kidding," I joke. "Yes, really!" I hit him on the arm.

I don't think I've ever seen him so happy. "Awesome. I can't wait."

Without warning, he pulls me in to another hug. I hug him back, suddenly feeling genuinely happy for the first time in a while.

After a while, he pulls away. "I should get home, though. I'll see you tomorrow?"

I nod. "Definitely."

He smiles and walks away. When he's halfway gone, he turns back and yells, "Make sure to wear something pretty for the dance, hey?"

I laugh. "I'll try my best."

"It shouldn't be too hard for you," he yells back.

And with that, he was gone.

Finally, it was Friday. After a week of waiting, it was here. I don't know why I was so nervous. I mean, this wasn't a date—just two friends going to a social gathering at school to dance and listen to music. That wasn't a modern version of a date, was it?

Regardless, I wanted to wear something pretty and my closetful of ball gowns was nowhere close to satisfactory for me. So, bringing out my creative side, I took an aqua blue gown, a pair of scissors and began to cut through the material. I didn't want to go out and spend money on an overpriced, fancy dress that I'd probably never wear again—so why not make do with what I already have and improve it?

After adjusting the sleeve length, cutting the dress so it didn't hang all the way down to the floor, and basically turning it into a whole new piece of material, I tried it on to see the results.

I was impressed with myself, actually. The dress hung just above my knees; an appropriate length for a school dance. I had cut the ugly, puffed out sleeves and adjusted them into tank-top like straps. It was much easier to move my arms around, and much less itchy. I had adjusted the dress to fit nicely on my torso, and not to toot my own horn, but I thought I looked rather attractive for once. Yet, at the same time, I felt incredibly silly getting all dressed up—probably because this is a once in a blue moon thing for me.

My mom helped me flat iron my hair. I barely recognized myself after; my hair is normally always very wavy, mostly because that's naturally how it dries after I shower. After my hair was done, she did my makeup, but not overdoing it. Light eye shadow, no eyeliner. Mascara on the top lashes, but not the bottom. My mom told me that because of my "naturally radiant complexion", I did not need any foundation or touch-ups. At this point, I couldn't help but feel pretty.

Since I am physically incapable of walking in heels, I decided to go with a pair of black flats for the evening. And with that shoe choice, I was ready. All I had to do was wait for Peeta to pick me up.

The knock at the front door nearly made my heart stop I was so nervous. Immediately, I felt stupid in this whole fancy getup I was wearing and wanted to just scrub the makeup from my eyes and mess up my hair. But I managed to keep myself sane as I opened the door to see Peeta, looking suave in a dress shirt, dress pants and tie, complete with shoes.

For a few seconds, he didn't say a word. He looked at me in near disbelief, and a smile slowly spread across his face.

I could feel myself blushing. Foundation would have helped in hiding that. "What?" I say, self-consciously.

Peeta's eyes met mine. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, so do you," I say without thinking. "I mean… for a guy… you know."

Peeta's face practically glows as he laughs. "Thanks, Katniss."

"You're welcome," I respond.

He holds out his arm to me. "Shall we?"

I step forward, shutting the door behind me, and grab his arm and we walk to his car.

"Are you wearing cologne?" I ask, snickering.

"Don't ruin this moment," he says.

I hold back my laughter. "Sure, of course."

Peeta grins. "But yes I am, thank you for noticing." And my snickering turns into a burst of laughter.

When we walked inside the dark, decorated gym, I take a minute to observe my surroundings. The school had outdone themselves with this event; lights of all colours are making the place glow, the music is so loud that you can feel the bass in your chest. Decorations hang from every corner, and the entire eleventh and twelfth grade population of the school must be here.

I turn to Peeta. "This is amazing!"

Peeta smiles. "I'm glad you think so. Shall we dance?" He held out his hand to me, and I take it without saying a word.

It gave me butterflies to have Peeta so close to me. The closest encounter we'd ever had was the previous hug. Now, his hands were around his waist and are noses were nearly touching. Gradually, with each passing song, he'd pull me in a little closer to him, and I'd grasp my arms a little tighter around his neck.

He leaned to whisper in my ear. "A bit different than cooking class, isn't it?"  
I don't know how I heard him over the music, but all other sounds seemed to vanish when he spoke. "No kidding," I respond.

Peeta laughs. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go for it," I say.

"How do you feel about Gale right now?" he asks.

I look into his deep blue eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how do you feel about him? Are your feelings for him still there?" He looked into my eyes as well. "After what he did to you… has anything changed?"

I thought about it. Yes, Gale cheated, and I was devastated. But right now, all I could feel was infatuation—but not for Gale. It was for the boy dancing with me right now, his hands around my waist, his soft voice in my ear, his cologne filling the air around us with a sweet scent.

I leaned back to speak into his ear. "I don't want anything to do with Gale anymore."

Peeta says back, "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," I say.

He looks me in the eyes, more deeply than ever before. "Good."

I laugh. "Good? Why is that good?"

"Because," he says, "I can do this."

"Do wha—" I began, but I was cut off by his lips against mine.

This was no regular kiss. Not like one I had ever felt when I was with Gale, kissing him. Something about this kiss sent a whole swarm of butterflies throughout my entire body, and I loved every second of it. When he began to pull away, I pulled him back in and kissed him again. I could feel him smiling and his hands clasp around me as he held my waist securely.

When I pulled away, we just looked at each other. We were as content and at peace as two people could ever be.

"I've wanted to do that ever since you walked into our math room a month ago," he confesses.

I wrap my arms around his neck, tighter than ever, and hug him with all my might. This moment was perfect, and I wanted to stay here forever. I never thought I'd say that about something, or anything for that matter. But it's what I wanted, and I was more than certain about it. For the rest of our time there, we rocked back and forth in each other's arms.

When he drove me home later that night, getting out of the car to leave was the worst feeling in the world; I didn't want to leave him.

"Thanks for being my date," says Peeta.

I raised my eyebrows. "So, this was a date?"

"Well, if you wanted it to be," he responds. "Whatever it was, I had a really nice time."

I smiled. "So did I."

He walked me to my door. "I hope you have a lovely rest of your night, Miss Everdeen."

"I wish the same to you, Mister Mellark." I was definitely smiling like an idiot.

He leaned in to kiss me one last time, and walked back to his car, started the engine and drove off.

I went into my house, closed the door behind me and leaned up against it, collecting my thoughts and pondering life for a few moments, and came to a conclusion:

I will most definitely be thanking my mother a million times in the morning for enrolling me in public school.


End file.
